


Beneath The Skin

by Wicked_Sonniku



Category: Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Beast Boy (Monster), Death, Feral Behavior, Insane Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:31:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked_Sonniku/pseuds/Wicked_Sonniku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hid it for so long. Ignored it. Kept them all laughing when inside he felt the HUNGER, the HUNGER. Drew his own blood. The taste was never enough. He ignored that, too. </p>
<p> It drove him crazy. That was it's way of punishing him. For trying to forget it. He wished it would go away. That one morning he would wake up and the feeling would be gone. The HUNGER would be gone. But it was apart of him now. And once he accepted that.....</p>
<p>It would feed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He's Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first story on A03. Don't flame.

"Friend Beast Boy?" He flinched when the soft voice of Starfire floated past his locked and bolted door. Go away. Please. Go AWAY. He buried his face into whatever was left of his once soft green blanket, and groaned softly. He wasn't surprised when it came out as a growl instead. It was even a struggle to make the most simple of noises now. Without IT showing through. 

"Beast Boy." Her voice was much firmer now. "You do realize...no one blames you. You do know this, right?" She was a LIAR. Why did she have to LIE. Of course they blamed him. They all did. It was Robin who had so nicely, "suggested" that he go "cool down" in his room. He was fine. Fine. Why couldn't they just see that? He could handle it. In some ways....it was good. It heightened his senses, made him stronger. WHY COULDN'T THEY....see that? 

"Friend Beast Boy....we know you did not mean to....to bite that man." See? It was in her voice. She even had trouble getting the words out. Like she couldn't believe them. A growling laugh came out of him at that. Of course she couldn't. It happened so fast. It had been a routine bank robbery. Nothing serious. They took down the punks, and Robin was contacting the police. All was well. Except it...wasn't. The tingling in his mind came. With force. Not like before. 

Things looked...different. Sounded....different. The coppery smell of blood lingered at the back of his throat. One of the robbers had gotten a scratch in the crook of his arm. God, it smelled....good. So good. He wanted to taste it. He shivered. The blood running down his throat. A scream. Fangs. Biting deep. Bone deep. And the scream of the man just made it taste better. The others tried to pry him off. He got one last lick. Chuckled at the sight of the man sprawled on he ground, sobbing in pain. 

He laughed as he remembered the looks of horror on their faces. On the drive back. The way Starfire was forever inching away from him in the back seat. As if he would bite her, too. He had no desire. The buzz had already faded. Mostly. It was happy. It had fed. It was sated. For a little while, at least. The HUNGER. It came back again. Soon. So soon that he was imagining sinking his fangs into the milky white skin on Starfire's neck. He only wanted to see....what she tasted like. He wouldn't kill her. 

"Oh, Star," he laughed. "Innocent....little....Star." He could hear her heartbeat quicken on the other side of the door, smell the saltiness of the sweat beading at her temple. A feral grin spread over his face. His tongue ran over his lip. "Sure, I meant it. You don't just....bite with no reason." Starfire was silent for a few moments. "I know you're theeeeereee...." He taunted in a singsong voice. "Not so eager to talk now, are ya?" 

He heard her clear her throat nervously. 

"Well....you have...never...acted such as this before..."

"That's because I didn't....understand it...before. I do now."

"Understand...what?" 

"IT, Star. IT."

"What is...it?"

He felt a ripple of anger. She knew what IT was. She KNEW. She was playing with him. Making fun of him. TAUNTING. HIM. SHE THOUGHT HE WAS WEAK. SHE THOUGHT HE COULDN'T HANDLE IT. SHE was the weak one. HE knew how to be strong. "You....know...." He manged to get out, panting like an enraged bull. Her heartbeat quickened again. Fear. She was afraid. "I-I'm...not sure-"

"Shut...up...." He snarled, clenching his fists. She was weak. Afraid. He didn't want to see her. Hear her. Even THINK of her. He'd rip her THROAT out. 

"Beast Boy-"

"SHUT UP!" He dug his fingernails into the ripped fabric of the bed, throwing every bit of poison he could muster into the words. "Go....away. NOW. NOW!!" 

He finally heard her footsteps disappear down the hall. Good. She should STAY. AWAY.

*********

"How is he?"

Starfire lifted her head to look at Robin, her eyes filling with tears. 

"He is sick."


	2. Hungry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Chapter. Woo.

Hungry. Hungry, hungry, HUNGRY. Hunger was always a terrible thing. He remembered dimly when IT wasn't even alive....how he used to joke with.....Cyborg? Cyborg. The hunger was bare;y an itch then... A poke in his mind. But now...the hunger was insanity. It invaded his mind, twisted his thoughts. Made him feel like he could tear himself apart from the inside. Rip his own throat out. Drink his own blood. Well....he'd already done that. It didn't help. His own blood was....not satisfying. Cold. Barely filling. 

But others....warm. Fatty. Good. So good. And when they were afraid....it tasted even better. It was like....fear had a taste. That was laced into every drop. It was pleasure. To take from a weak being. To know they could do nothing...NOTHING...to stop you. He laughed then. A snarling, growling, type of giggle. Starfire. She had been weak. She had been afraid. How it would have been to siphon every bit of fear from her veins......

"Ah!" He hissed, digging his sharp fingernails into the threadbare pillow held close to his shaking form. HUNGRY! His stomach was in knots. He felt sick. He'd already emptied the little that was in his stomach onto the now foul-smelling carpet on the floor. Still he shook, sweat, snarled. If only he could get close enough....

Maybe he could. Yes. MAYBE....he could. They treated him like a caged animal. Slid him food through the gap under the door. Food. He spit angrily at that, running his tongue over his lips sharply. What kind of food did they give him? Slop. Cold fruit, mostly. The food was only good for one thing. To squeeze between his fingers, feel it slip between. It almost felt like skin. The feeling when he dug his fingernails into it, ripped away chunks. The cold juice, though. That didn't feel like blood. It ruined it. 

He forced his mind back on his earlier thought, after first chasing it down. It was hard to remember much of anything now. Ah. Not the point. Not the point. Sometimes he could see the shadow of their hand (whoever it was that was feeding him that day), passing under the bottom of the scratched up wood. If he could....he could crouch close to the door. No sound. No. Sound. Important. When they passed him the food....

Attack. Rip. Bite down. Hard. Don't let go. Hunger. Sate. Hunger. 

He ran his tongue over his lip again, smiling to himself. Yes. That was it. It could feed. It would be happy. It would rest. For a little while, at least. He frowned at that. Hm. If he attacked....even if he fed...they would trust even less. They would be extra careful. There would be no more openings. NO. NO. 

He had to try.


	3. I Can Reach

"What do we do with him?"

Robin's question hung in the air like a death sentence, sucking the air out of the room. To Raven, it made it pretty much impossible to breathe, let alone speak. Starfire, who had spent the last half hour of their "meeting" clasping and unclasping her hands with tears in her eyes, finally spoke, her voice squeaking out tentatively. 

"I do not believe the Beast Boy should stay here. Or locked in his room, at least. It will only make him more destructive." Raven paused the tugging at her cloak she had been firmly focused on. "And if we let him out?" she asked quietly. "He could kill us, Star." It was true. They all knew it. 

"If I could run a few tests on him...we could at least figure out what's wrong with the guy," Cyborg offered. Robin shook his head. Not so much saying no, but like he was disagreeing with his own thoughts. "It could work. If we knew what was wrong, we could at least determine a course of action."

Raven scoffed gently. "That's all good and well. Yeah. That sounds like a plan, alright. But who's gonna get close enough to sedate him, or even open his door without getting their head torn off?" Yep. There goes the air again. "I believe you could, Raven." Maybe not. "Please explain, Star." Raven wasn't an idiot. She knew she was the only one who could retrieve him.

But it hurt. To see him like that. She missed the days where he used to be just this little annoying pipsqueak who followed her around, instead of an animal behind a locked door. And she could be the annoyed older sister figure. Not the one who had to sedate him and drag him in for testing. His...handler. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. 

She had to do it.

"Ok." 

She didn't look at any of them. Her violet eyed gaze stayed fixed on her hands, which had begun to develop welts because of how hard she was digging her nails into them. "I'll do it." Her throat strained to get the words out, and she ended up sounding like Starfire. "Thanks, Rave," came Cyborg's reply. "Thank you, friend Raven," came Starfire's. "We know this'll be hard for you, Raven," Robin tried to console her. 

"No." She looked up. "It's nothing. I'm fine. I'm doing it to help him. I'll get him into the lab, Cyborg will run tests. We'll find out what's wrong. We'll fix it." 

"Nothing to be sad about."

Right?


	4. Lucid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His...friends. Friends?

Sleep. What was so simple before, was now practically impossible. He craved it. Felt his body shutting down with each hour spent crawling around his room, talking to himself in a low, continuous snarl. He'd try, of course. Try to lay in the shredded remains of what used to be a bed and shut his eyes, block IT out and feel the blackness envelope him. He wanted, just for an hour or so....to forget.

But it was impossible to stay still, even for a moment. He needed to _move_. He needed to be active in some way. When he wasn't he could feel it creeping into every crevice in his brain, felt himself slipping into his inevitable insanity. It wasn't just a thought. It was an actual FEELING. A tingle in his mind, an itch that he couldn't scratch. An itch so intense he sometimes found himself clawing at his head, ripping out clumps of his green hair, as if he was trying to pry out the mash that had to be his brain now. It was clever. It distorted things just enough to bother him. Make him angry. Make his pupils dilate, his nostrils flare in a rage he couldn't suppress. A rage that he didn't even know to whom he was directing it at, but that was still there. Always THERE. 

Now he sits on his soiled mattress, picking absentmindedly at the stitching of a pillow to his right. It was one of his more lucid moments. Usually he would be ripping the pillow to shreds at his feet, then pouncing, snarling like an enraged rottweiler, at the cotton that drifted from the tattered thing like a neglected spirit. But now he just digs a fingernail into the soft material, creating tiny tears no bigger than his nail. A surprisingly normal thought crosses his mind.

_I'm bored._

He finds it true, staring at cotton pushing its way up through a rip. He's bored. Achingly. He sits up, cocking his head in a fashion not unlike a curious cat. Hm. Well, what can he do to not...be...bored? His tongue darts out to lick his pointed teeth. Hm. Before the Surfacing, he liked to call it, when he was bored, he would follow...Raven? His face scrunches up in thought.

Purple. He remembers the color purple. A frown. A red jewel.

_Raven._

He sits up further with a little purr. Yeah. He remembered Raven. And Robin. Robin. Cyborg. No. Cy. Yes, that was it. What did Cyborg call him? Beastie. He let out another one of the little purrs. It's not exactly a happy sound, per say, just more of a ' _I'm not bat-shit crazy right now'_ sound. He remembers another name. Starfire....he feels the anger stir a little in his stomach, trying to remind him of the other...week? Month? Week. He pushed it back down with difficulty, baring his teeth with the effort. No. Friend. _Friend._ Nothing. Else. 

He slips off the mattress, making his way to the door. He sits in front of it, his face still scrunched up in thought. His...friends. The revelation hits him like a punch to the face, tearing through the anger with its own sharp claws, shredding the resolve of even IT itself for a moment. He has friends. 

_HAD,_ IT reminds him, sinking its teeth back into his brain, not willing to release its control. He  _had_ friends. But now he's....this. Whatever this was. He knows that whatever it was...it wasn't what he used to be. His eyes drift down to his hands. Bruised and bloodied, they're covered with all manner of cuts and scratches and bites. Places where he drew his own blood to keep from drawing the blood of others. Places where he scratched himself simply out of anger, or to test his...well, they weren't really nails anymore, more like claws, long and curved to a point. The same went for his teeth. He sometimes cuts the flesh on his tongue when it slides out to run across the points of his molars, razor sharp compared to what they used to be.

His hair has grown, too, except for the places where's he's ripped it our of his skull. It's now long and shaggy and reaches his shoulders. His clothes are in disarray, his uniform hanging on his near skeletal frame by just a few, last stubborn strands. His ribs are nearly sticking out of his skin with every breath. He feels it, feels the strain of his bones against flesh, as if his skeleton is fighting to burst out of him. In a way, something is. IT. With every second, he knows it's trying to get out of him, to take him over, completely melt his mind into nothing. Until he's completely...this. He still has his moments, though. Moments like this. When he could still fight it off, and return to his own self.

When he can remember. Still, it bothers him that he can only remember certain-

Footsteps. Outside the door. He scrambles closer, pressing a pointed ear to the scratched up wood. Who is it? Are they here for food? He glances over to a corner of the room, where a collection of half-empty bowls of fruit and tofu sit. The latest one was delivered...an hour ago? Maybe. He has no real concept of time now. He hasn't known what time or day it is since forever ago. 

He hears someone slide down to sit on the other side of the door, accompanied by a shaky sigh. He takes in a breath through his nose, and it smells like lavender and vanilla. He racks his mushy brain. Raven. It smells like....

"Raven.." His voice is scratchy and hoarse with misuse. It sounds like static from a bad TV. Yet it is still his own. It still has the unmistakable squeak of youth in it. It is not truly this. Not truly monster. 

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and when she regains it and her voice spills out of her, it is strained and rushed, like she can't believe what's happening. Trying to hold onto the moment.

"Beast Boy. I-I'm not even supposed to be anywhere near you. Robin told us to avoid your room at all costs, but...I just wanted to see if-"

"Raven. Remember. You." He cuts her off, sitting up a little straighter on his side of the door. The hunch in his back becomes less pronounced, the bumps of his spine receding into the flesh. He is proud. Immensely. Proud that he can still remember, that he can still fight IT off for just a moment.

She does not seem as proud. He hears the slide of her palm against the wood, and her sigh at his clipped speech.

"That's great, Beast Boy. That's _fantastic_." She hesitates for a moment. "What happened to you?" This is barely a whisper, even quieter from her tone before. 

What...happened? 

"I...don't know...now..different. Not...before."

A small chuckle at that, the sound sad. 

"You're right about that...nothing is the same..." 

Her voice chokes up, and he can practically see her lavender eyes welling up with tears. Wait. This wasn't right. He claws through his memories again. Raven...didn't cry. Never. She never even comforted those who did cry....this...wasn't right.

_Weak. Ness. Weakness!_ IT shrieks in his head, scratching desperately at his eyes. IT is trying to remind him. The weak do not survive. She is not strong. She is WEAK. 

It is quiet for a moment. He is trying to fight IT off again, biting hard at his tongue and filling his mouth with blood. She is sniffling on the other side. 

Finally she speaks, and her voice is stronger, distracting IT for a moment. 

"I swear...I'll get you out of this. We'll find out what's wrong together. I'll help you. I promise."

IT snarls and scoffs at her words, but the one behind it....

Garfield Logan smiles. 


End file.
